Poppyfield Red
by FullMetalCrayon
Summary: "I have seen all things done under the sun; and really, they are meaningless- like a chasing of the wind."  On hiatus until I ressurect my plot bunny. Formerly The Golden Winter Wind.
1. Prologue

Hey guys! I'm REALLY sorry I haven't updated in like foheva...life had to come around and kick me in the butt again. So, I decided to write this angsty fic (my first long multi-chapter, yay). I got the idea at church-seriously, DO NOT ASK xP-so there will be mentions of God, quotes from the bible, etc even though the story isn't about religion..

On that super boring note, this story is Royai and RoyEd. So, if you get offended by gay love, go read some other story. However, young readers, there won't be any naughty business so carry on reading!

Although the focus of this isn't about the romance.. its in there x3

Violence ahead, sadness, manly angst, and if you tilt your computer upside down and do a scottish folkdance, a dash of humor.

Dang, long author's note.

So without futher ado, here ya go!

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><p><em>Prologue<em>

For the first time in 3 months, Roy Mustang woke up alone.

As black eyes blearily flitted open he became hyperaware of the fact that the only sound in the room was his own soft breathing. _Where is she? _he wondered, having a mini panic attack as a sweep of the room turned up negatory.

A yip from the doorway broke into Roy's thoughts and he shrieked like the little girl he was inside.

"HOLY SHIT DON'T HURT ME IM JUST A-"

Uncontrollable laughter coaxed him to look out of his cower.

Oh..

"Hey, Riza, Black Hayate," he said casually, as if he hadn't been praying for his life a few moments before.

"Hello, Roy," Riza answered, face stern but eyes smiling. Onyx met chocolate and they held gazes for a moment, simply relishing in each other's presence.

Riza broke the eye contact first, looking down a bit lower than his eyeballs. Clearing her throat and stifling laughter, she threw a pair of boxers at him. "Might wanna put these on, _sir_."

Roy groaned as he too looked down. Riza, already dressed, waltzed out of the room with Black Hayate on her feet. "Don't be late, Brigader-General!" She called pleasantly as the heavy front door snapped shut behind her in a flurry of blue and blonde.

"Mphm," he replied intelligently, shoving albaster skin and black hair back into a fluffy pillow. Mondays were the beign of his existance. Well, them and the damned rain.

Although, if they meant Riza, he supposed he could grow accustomed to them.

Now if only he could get out of bed.

* * *

><p>Pale hands shoved roughly in jacket pockets curled into tight fists as he thought of the impending doom ahead.<p>

_Havoc, Fuery, Breda Falman, Riza, Fullmetal, Al-_

A furrowed brow cut him off from his thoughts as he pondered the last three names.

Would he really allow them to follow him into what would most likely be death?

_"Don't worry 'bout me, Flame Bastard," Ed replied flippantly, placing his arms behind his head and reclining. "'Sides, I got nothin' else to do. Do you really want me off blowin' up more cities or somethin'?"_

_"Yes, sir, I'm aware of the danger," Al answered, his slightly feminine voice laced with certainty. "But I'm going wherever Brother goes."_

_"Must you even ask?" Riza questioned, penetrating his soul with one of those glares. "I've done it before, I'll do it again."_

Riza's answer had been the hardest to deal with. Shivering, he conjured up her pained face from dark memories of Ishval then banished them away again. The past held nothing for Roy anymore; perhaps motivation, but the present situation promised quite enough of that.

How could he let her-them- go through hell yet again?

He muttered a string of curse words under his breath as he realized he had nothing to do with the situation. Perhaps Fuhrer Grumman?- He shook his head before the thought could nestle itself in his brain. Begging would be weak- And the Flame Alchemist was NOT weak.

Why did they follow him, anyway? Sure, he had ambitions, and being his right-hand man might get you far- but joining him in war was a tad bid excessive if you were only riding the gravy train. Fullmetal and Alphonse's bodies were complete once more- they could be home in Resembool milking chickens or whatever it is they do there anyway. Yet, here they were, uniform and all, leaving that behind to march off in the damn snow and shoot people.

Trust, maybe?

Roy laughed aloud, a long, throaty chuckle that coaxed stares from the people he passed on the thoroughfare. Trust? Ha!

As if it could be justified to call what Fullmetal and Alphonse shared merely _trust._

Trust was what a boss and his employees shared. The boss trusted them to work, and in turn, they trusted to recieve compensation for busting their asses at work all damn day.

Oh, sure- trust must be present in every working relationship. Could he bear Hawkeye with a gun near his head if he didn't trust her?

No, no- trust definitely wasn't the answer. A part of the whole, maybe, like one of the 2's in 2+2=4..

There had to be some underlying emotion there- damn, it was too early in the morning for this-

_Smack._

"Phmp- eh, wha-" Roy stared up at the sky from his new perch on the ground, confusion roaring through his veins. He was standing- then..and now-

"How's the weather down there, Brigader General?"

Something small and blonde moved itself before onyx eyes, bearing a smug smirk on its face.

"Well? You gettin up?"

"Sorry, Fullmetal, I didn't see you. Did you take off your elevated boots?"

"WHY YOU LITTLE-~!"

Roy pushed himself smugly off the ground and dusted offending dirt from his uniform. Oh, yes, he still had it.

Mustang dimly heard Alphonse talking his brother out of murder as he focused on brown eyes that met his worriedly. Had he walked all the way to HQ?

"..Sir?"

He blinked down at Riza, unused to the somewhat familiar title. Why was she calling him sir?

Work...! Oh, right, that stupid thing.

"I'm fine, Lieutenant Colonel," he answered, shaking his confusion away. He desperately required some honing skills before he met the battlefield- after all, he had someone he needed to protect.

Ed untangled himself from his more sensible brother and they came to stand beside Hawkeye, Ed bearing a grin that surely Briggs could see. "Well, Brigader-General Bastard, me 'n Hawks were headin' down to the library to grab some files for Maes's old team. That okay with you, or were you planning to run me over again?"

Roy snorted and ran a hand absently through tousled black locks. "Hardly, Fullmetal. Oh, and while you're out, do pick up some more boots. You're really a hazard."

Ed huffed and tapped his metal leg impatiently against concrete. "Shaddup. I'm nearly as tall as you, bastard."

Roy blinked as he realized the boy was right. Ed's antenna came to the bottom of Mustang's ear now.

_Shit. _When the hell did that happen?..

Leaving Roy to go through shock for the second time that morning, the trio turned and ambled toward the newly-built military library.

Suddenly, Ed turned around to smile at him in what only could be a reassuring manner. _It's okay, _the smile seemed to convey. _Don't worry about her._

As Roy blinked after their retreating figures, he felt a long-buried emotion flutter its way slowly to the surface.

Happiness? No.. not quite. Joy..? Not right either. Reassurance..?

His brain snapped out of its Monday-induced stupor and mentally smacked him upside the head.

No, you idiot.

The emotion he had been trying to peg all morning was _love._

A genuine, non-smirking smile somehow crept its way onto Roy's pale features.

Love, huh?

He briefly wondered how he could take it if anything happened to any of them, then locked the passing thought away for darker days.

All he knew now was that if he had to follow them to war, to Hades itself, to protect those three people-

Then so fucking be it.

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><p>There ya go!<p>

So, if you were wondering, this is post-manga, Ed and Al's bodies are back, everyone got promotions, and Ed retained his alchemy for the purpose of this fic.

Also, I own nothin but this glass of chocolate milk I be drinkin.

I hope you enjoyed it and await the next chapter!

If you want a cookie then I suggest-

To review.

Cause reviews are luff, and I'll give reviewers cookiez!

Til next time!

**~FullMetalCrayon~**


	2. For My Country

Hello guys!

Thanks for reviewing.

As for the person who sent me an anonymous review (you know who you are), send me a signed one and I'll answer.

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><p><strong>For My Country<strong>

_We will protect our citizens! That is our duty, the duty of the military. We fight for the people! FOR THE PEOPLE, I SAY! This...this war is not unnecessary. Why would we send your sons and daughters, husbands and wives away if this were not the most urgent of circumstances? This was a long time coming, my dear people. Perhaps even before Ishval..._

Winry snorted and angrily flicked the dial left. Most urgent of circumstances. Ha.

What would be so urgent as to take her boys away?

Without the hum and static of the dusty old radio to fill the room, a gentle, sad calm set over her. Nothing was ever quiet with her brothers. This silence was wrong; they'd done what they enlisted to do! Alphonse breathed again, and Ed was only a fourth metal now.. But really, who needs _natural _when you could have _automail!_

Blue irises tentatively flitted back to the picture above her workstation. Pinako found it in Hoenhiem's overcoat after she gravely discovered him knelt by his late wife's grave, joining her in the afterlife. The picture, worn with creases from folding and unfolding, came with note hasitly scrawled on the crumpled back:

_Pinako-_

_Take this picture back, for Alphonse if not Ed._

_I want them to remember me._

_-Van_

Winry sighed. Ed took it harder than perhaps Al did; coming home to hear "Well, now that you've gotten on good terms with Daddy Dearest...he snuffed it. Whoops." Ed (ever the freaking hero) blamed his father's death on himself- I mean, he like ripped his heart out to save them from those creepy Homunculi-whatevers. Maybe he really wasn't such a bad daddy.

Ed didn't wanna hear it, though, when Winry tried to give him the picture.

_"I don't need that- I remember how Mom looked."_

_"It's not about Trisha, its about Ho-"_

_"Can it, Winry. I don't wanna talk about it."_

_"But, Ed, he was your da-"_

_"I said, shut up!"_

Nothing could faze that boy's temper, it seemed. Not happiness, nor age.. Winry firmly believed that when Ed gets to heaven (which he will, no matter what he says about God) that he'll get into a fight with the Lord himself. Maybe God will accidentally call him short.

Winry carefully took the picture off the wall and brushed her fingers softly across it. She could remember Ed as a little kid- his hardheadness hadn't come with age, he was simply born with it- but back then, him and Alphonse both were just..carefree. None of this 'I must save the world' crap. They weren't ever devoted to anything, besides themselves and Trisha.

Which brought her wandering mind back to the question- Why didn't they un-enlist?

Alphonse took the State Alchemy exam so he could be with Brother, he claimed. Winry could understand his reasoning-he needed to be with Ed. Okay. Nothing too new. Alphonse needed his Brother, and Ed needed Alphonse to keep him in line.

But Ed? To stay under 'Colonel Bastard's' command and go to freaking _war_?

_"There's people I gotta protect."_

_"Then stay here! Al could die by following you! If you'd stay he would too!"_

_Ed had shaken his head then, golden hair swaying softly against his forehead. _

_"It's not just about you n' Al.. What about Riza, or even Roy? What if they die?"_

_"They can take care of themselves!"_

_"Oh, and I can't?"_

_Winry paused and pursed her lips. The boy-well, man now- had a point. He'd been through years and years of hell.._

_"Well, you still shouldn't skip blindly into this! There's people here, in Resembool, leaning on you too!"_

_Ed reached out and touched her shoulder in what she supposed was supposed to be a comforting manner, but only ticker her off worse. She was thissss close to grabbing a wrench..Couldn't he at least give her a hug?_

_With a sad smile, he pierced her blue eyes with his gold and shrugged. "I can't sit back and twiddle my thumbs while my friends are out there dying, Win."_

That was the end of the conversation. Perhaps they were subconsciously trying to enjoy their last few days together happily before he left- maybe they were just avoiding the topic. However, the days passed much to quickly and before she could say Automail her brothers waltzed out of the door, passing waves and goodbyes hastily over shoulders before disappearing behind a fiery horizon, once again leaving their home and family behind for who knows how long this time.

Maybe even forever.

Winry's eyes brimmed at the lashes with familar wetness before she could even stop it. Edward always seemed to be making her show her girly side and burst out bawling about one thing or another. It was highly annoying. She was a automail mechanic, not some poor sappy romantic schoolgirl that cried everytime her imaginary knight in shining armor dissipated to be replaced with reality. And anyway, he wasn't a knight. Just a soldier with a navy blue uniform.

Work-buzzed spirits now eplaced with saddened ones, Winry turned back to glance thoughtfully at her ancient radio.

What did that old coot on the news know, anyway? Sure, he was Fuhrer. Whoop de freakin do. That doesn't entitle you to knowledge; only power, power to take people's friends from them.

Her thoughts briefly lingered on Mr. Mustang. What about him? The military took his last possible shred of innocence; they spilled citizen's blood upon his pale hands. Children that cried out for their mothers, women who scrambled to save family but never succeded, just burned, _burned_ at the finger tips of a military demon-

Winry didn't try and stop the tears this time. Maybe it was healthy to cry, as Pinako claimed- keeping it inside you didn't do a lick of good. Maybe she should cry more and throw a wrench at things less often.

With one last glance at the radio, Winry's heart determined what her brain already knew. Ed and Al had to go off to this war- if they didn't, it could become another Ishval. They needed to help Mr. Mustang rise in the ranks so he could stop wars and stop things like Ed or even his situations from ever occurring as long as he lived.

They had to do it for Roy, and Riza, in memory of Mr. Hughes, for Amestris itself, and- begrudgingly, Winry began to admit the one thing she wouldn't let herself since this whole mess began.

Yeah. They were doing it for her sake, too.

"Winry! There's a customer!" Pinako shouted from the front room, shattering the dark thoughts that harbored in her head.

"Wha-Hmm, okay. Be there in a sec," she called back, throwing blonde locks back and wiping blue eyes with greasy hands before grabbing her trusty toolbox and heading off to do what she does best.

The picture, having unconsciously slipped from her fingers, drifted slowly down to the floor, leaving little Edward to smile alone at the darkened ceiling.

* * *

><p>Roy squeezed his eyes shut and slid down in the uncomfortable, bumpy seat, one hand massaging his temple. His subordinates were eagerly crowded around the radio Fuery had been able to successfully plug in and fix on the train of all things.<p>

"Just in time for the Fuhrer's message!" Armstrong yelped excitedly, setting his hugemongous self down beside delicate Fuery, who was beginning to sweat nervously at the close proximity.

"Wow, Major," Havoc cut in, eyeing Fuery amusedly. "I never knew you were so patriotic."

"IT'S A TRAIT THAT'S BEEN PAS-"

"Passed down the Armstrong line for GENERATIONS, we know," continued Fullmetal and Breda and unision, annoyed.

Roy chuckled loudly, drawing a loud (louder than he himself was! Hmph.) round of "shhhhhhhs" from his underlings (save Fullmetal and Alphonse) as the news broadcast started.

_"..This was a long time coming, my dear people. Perhaps even before Ishval, the Great Rebellion in the East. Drachma and us have always shared a shaky sort of agreement about the North- but it seems tension has grown and we must station a few military troops up there to keep the peace. Amestris is the best of the best, with a top of the line military equipped with the best soilders, weapons, and alchemists.._

Roy grimaced and turned to glare at the radio. So, alchemists weren't human now, huh? The radio, obvilious to his glaring, continued to let the Fuhrer speak through it:

_It's nothing more than a border skirmish-Our military personnel will have no trouble rectifying this issue and bringing it to a peaceful standstill to ensure the protectiont our citizens.._

Roy resumed rubbing his temples, trying his best to ignore his former General. The things Grumman said reverberated throught the train car, bouncing off each and every thing as if to drive the message straight into Roy's poor overworked brain.

_All hail Amestris!_

"All hail, Amestris," the men repeated like parrots, saluting the old, staticy radio like it just brought them water after 10 days in Ishval.

"Sir, are you alright?"

Roy cracked one onyx eye open to see Hawkeye giving him a look, stuck between confusion and annoyance.

"Ducky, Riza, just ducky. I'm about to go to war for the second time in less that two decades, and I'm just peachy," he drawled, sarcasm practically dripping from his tongue.

Hawkeye sighed and slid next to him in the seat. "Sir, try not to be such a pessimist."

"I'll be sure to work on that, Lieutenant Colonel."

Riza held her head in her feminine hands, blonde locks slipping between her fingers. "Do..you still have your letter?"

The question sent shock waves of surprise through Roy. "Uh..yeah, sure," he answered intelligently, digging through his rumpled uniform until he found the paper in question. With one eyebrow arched, he wordlessly handed her the letter. Taking it gingerly between dainty fingers lined with callouses, she laid it upon her lap and began to read aloud.

_Roy Mustang:_

_I hereby require you to report in for briefing upon your next mission at hand. There has been a 'disagreement' with Drachma and you have been selected from a group of highly skilled soldiers to serve at the front lines for our country._

_I suggest aquiring clothes designed to withstand the cold._

_You will be depearting next Friday, and the briefing is at 15:00 hours August 17, 1921._

_I hope you treat this honor with the respect it deserves, solider._

_-Fuhrer Grumman_

Roy raked his eyes over her form, trying for the life of him to uncover why she'd needed to read the letter aloud so noticed Alphonse glancing curiously at Riza from across the aisle, head cocked like a confused puppy. A few other men were eyeing her catiously, obviously having overheard and concluding that Hawkeye was simply off her rocker.

"A border skirimish.." Riza mumbled, eyes traveling at lightning speed across the paper. Abruptly, she turned and fixed Roy with a gaze that pierced him down to his soul (or lack thereof.)

"We won't be leaving in a few months, will we, Brigader General." She found it pointless to say exactly where they would be leaving from- the only thing on her friend's minds were Briggs, and bloody battlefields.

"I'm afraid not, Lieutenant."

"Lieutenant Colonel to you, sir."

Roy only grunted in response.

* * *

><p>An uncomfortable silence engulfed the train car after Hawkeye and him finished speaking. It streched on for hours, no one daring to breathe as the first snowflake drifted lazily past their windows.<p>

Normally silence didn't bother Roy. Endless chatter was useless; Roy saw no point in 'small talk.' However, this silence suffocated him, strangled him- He could feel that they were close; snow had begun to finely coat their surroundings, and there was no mistaking the North once you arrived.

Roy gazed around for a bit, black eyes calculating and evaluating. Fullmetal haphazardly sprawled across Alphonse and Breda, mouth hanging open like a dunce. Breda started intently at the floor as if it held the secrets of the universe, while Havoc simply puffed on a cig. Big surprise.

Fuery and Armstrong monkeyed around with a radio while Riza and Falman simply read quietly, him being the only one bored out of his ever-loving mind and stifled by silence.

Well, him and Alphonse.

Their roaming eyes locked briefly and Roy made it a point to painstakingly memorize his slightly feminine features exactly as they were now. By the time they left this battlefield, his face will be older, and not so innocent.

He would be a man.

Roy felt a twinge of sadness as he looked at Al. The boy was only 17, yet he obviously possessed the guts of Fullmetal because he chose to follow soliders willy-nilly into a battle, the damn kid. He had no sense of self preservation, whatsoever. Idiot.

He supposed this train was the last place he could call Alphonse by his birth name, for in war as his superior he was required to call Alphonse by his state-title. Damn regulations.

'The Armor Alchemist.' Seriously, Grumman's brain musta rotted up and fell out his ear or something. How cruel was this man, sticking Al with such a blatant reminder of his harsh past?

And also, his name wasn't even that cool. Roy was Flame; it was daunting and intimidating and a huge turn-on for the ladies. Ed even had a kickass name like Fullmetal- what kinda person wants to tussle with the 'Fullmetal Alchemist?' That's right, no one.

But Armor? ..Seriously!

Roy groaned inwardly at his superior's fail and turned to stare pensively out the window, slightly marveling at the white percipitation. He loved snow, really..just not for long periods of time. Like five minutes. It messed with his beloved fire alchemy...and made his hands all slushy.

Snowbanks rose above 5 feet here; he knew they were scarcely 10 minutes away.

The setting sun pierced itself on a snow-topped peak and bled red into the valley, making Roy cringe at the symbolism one could take from that. How long before that wasn't just the sun's rays? How long til it was real blood?

Oh, Alphonse...and Ed, too. They'd never kill anyone..how the hell will they survive?

The abrupt screeching of brakes rattled Roy from his worryings and informed him that he was off in his estimation of time. As the train slowly drew to a stop, the silence grew so much more intense that Mustang felt throat tighten in response. He. Would. Suffocate. if he didn't say something, he reckoned.

"We're here, boys," he choked out softly, turning to survey his subordinates who stared at him like deer in headlights; scared to move, but to stay put meant to perish.

"Yes, sir," they all replied weakly, snapping half-hearted salutes as they began to collect their things. With a pointed look at Mustang, Hawkeye let everyone exit before her so she could walk, albeit quietly, alone with her Roy. Truly alone for the last few minutes until the war sprang forth like a prowling tiger.

Silently, the two soldiers filed out of the train car to step blindly into a cold valley devoid of hope.

"For my country," Hawkeye mumbled softly, blinking into the harsh winter wind that slapped at her face.

"For my country," Roy replied, squeezing her hand gently.

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><p>~To Be Continued~<p>

Thanks for reading!


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